


Roll For Initiative

by maybethrice



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tabletop Gaming, Crack, F/M, Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8139059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybethrice/pseuds/maybethrice
Summary: Sansa has her own agenda in helping out on Robb's night to DM.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt taken in the WRONG DIRECTION on tumblr. I have no excuse for this, this is ridiculous.
> 
> I've played D&D about two times in my entire life, please be gentle.

“You — amazingly — pass the persuasion check and convince the barkeep at the tavern to tell you where to find the clairvoyant. She keeps to herself in a room on the upper level of the tavern.” 

“All right,” answered Jon, drinking deeply from his pint glass. “I guess we’ll go up to see her now?”

Robb looked down his nose at Jon with a hand hovered over the the pile of dice in the center. “You _guess_ you’ll go see her now?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Robb,” Jon muttered, reaching for his favorite die. “All right, Arya—”

“Nymeria the Terrible,” Arya reminded him, flicking a deadly look over her phone screen before returning to her texts. “And I’m staying down with the bar keep. To collect information.” 

“Okay, while _Nymeria the Terrible_ waits downstairs, I go upstairs to talk to the clairvoyant.”

“You’ll have to roll if you’re going to be collecting information, Arya.” Robb’s voice tensed with frustration, but Arya only reached over for a die and rolled it absently, peeping up long enough to see the fourteen. Robb groaned as she smugly sat back in her chair to keep texting.

“Jon?” 

“Do I really need to roll to _walk up the stairs_ , Robb? My character’s a level forty-seven ranger, you’d think—”

“The door is locked,” Robb interjected loudly. 

“Oh, fine.” Jon picked up his die. “I knock on the door, though I assume this is a wasted effort, since the clairvoyant probably already knows that we’re coming.”

A quiet rapping noise came from behind Robb, who jumped so high that he dropped his dice when Sansa pushed the door open and looked around at the three of them, her eyes landing on Jon last, where they lingered before snapping back to Robb’s sour expression. 

“Oh,” she said flatly. “I was looking for Jon, but I guess I’ll leave you to the game.”

Robb thrust a fistful of dice up to her impatiently. “I need you to roll for the clairvoyant,” he explained. “Jon’s rolls are really good tonight and it’s ruining the game.”

Sansa looked down at his hand, then back up at Jon. “All right,” she said with a faint smile, tucking her hair behind her ears and slipping into the chair next to her sister. “What do I need to do?” 

Robb cleared his throat, rubbing his fingers over his chin to regain his composure. “I guess just — you answer the door and—”

“What am I wearing?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

Sansa smoothed her fingers down over her pressed skirt and smiled. “I said, what am I wearing?”

“I don’t know. Clairvoyant things.” Robb shuffled his notes in front of him and looked to Jon. “So, you’ve found the clairvoyant who has seen your future and can tell you the secret of defeating the sorcerer Urswin. The clairvoyant — that’s you, Sansa — isn’t forthcoming with information, and looks more like she’d prefer if you left her alone.”

“Do I?” Sansa leaned over to look at Robb’s notes and hummed curiously, a soft smile curling at the corner of her mouth before she turned her entire body toward Jon and crossed her legs primly. “All right, then, Mister Level Forty-Seven Ranger, now that you’ve got me here, what are you going to do?”

Jon’s face colored immediately and Arya carefully set her phone facedown on the table, looking up with interest for the first time that night. 

“You must have heard that,” he mumbled and shuffled his die around in his palm. “All right, I attempt to persuade the clairvoyant to the nobility of our cause.”

He avoided Sansa’s barely-masked smile when he half-heartedly dropped the die on the table.

“You fail,” said Sansa cheerfully, peering down at the four facing up from his roll. “Right?”

“The clairvoyant is unimpressed by the — what was it? — nobility of your cause and does not tell you the secret to defeating Urswin.” Robb propped his chin up on his hand and waved a hand to Sansa, staring down at his notes. “You can attempt to persuade her some other way, or you can leave to pursue Nymeria the Terrible’s lead on a weapon in the Caverns of Chaos.”

Sansa leaned over the corner of the table toward Jon, discreetly elbowing Arya when she began to grin. “There’s another option.”

Robb’s head jerked upward and he frowned. “No, there’s not.” 

But Sansa stared directly at Jon, her slow-creeping smile having at some point turned to a wicked grin while he had been looking awkwardly at the figurine in front of him. She shrugged and held up the die between her fingers. “The clairvoyant offers information in exchange for a favor of her own choosing.” 

Jon set down his beer with a heavy thud, displacing a sheaf of papers that tumbled to the floor beside his chair. “Um,” he said stupidly. 

“You’ll have to roll for persuasion, Sansa,” Robb said, his ears turning hot and red. “And Jon’s character’s got a high insight stat.”

“It’s seduction, not persuasion,” Arya added quickly, unfolding her arms from her chest with a ever-growing grin.

Sansa set aside her die, leaned over and plucked the one out of Jon’s fingers. “You said this one was lucky, right?” she asked, tumbling it around a few times with her eyes fixed on Jon’s. 

His throat bobbed visibly. “Just roll, Sansa,” he said hoarsely, looking very quickly over at his irritated best friend. Or, only avoiding Sansa’s cutting stare.

She held out her hand and let the die freefall to the table, where it bounced twice and landed. 

20\. 

Sansa beamed. “I think that means…”

“It means Aemon the Dragonknight’s going to be busy for a while,” said Arya brightly, hopping up from her chair and grabbing her phone off the table with one hand. She hooked the other in the collar of her older brother’s t-shirt and tugged him toward the door, flashing a quick wink in Sansa’s direction. “Oh, quit making that noise, Robb. You never finished building the Caves of Chaos quest, anyway.”


End file.
